


Call it Comfort

by strawberrylemonade1225



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Mutually Unrequited, Overstimulation, sorta - Freeform, unrequited love more like they're both idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 18:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrylemonade1225/pseuds/strawberrylemonade1225
Summary: Devin, an anxious mess, has a hypothesis he wants to test that has to do with his very obvious oral fixation. He's sure that this hypothesis will turn out to be true, and that, for once, he'll be able to melt and stay calm and focused. After said hypothesis turns out to be true, it spirals further, expanding more until it turns into something much larger than Devin could have expected. Despite how it shakes him to his core, it comforts him more than anything at the same time, so he decides to just call it comfort.





	Call it Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> HAHA HEY  
> wow this is smut  
> WOW THIS IS OC SMUT  
> a combo attack  
> like all of this makes sense without knowing the background of these ocs so like don't worry about that lol  
> anyway yeah let's get on w/ the show

Every pencil he owns has teeth marks around the erasers, every hoodie string has frayed edges, and it takes him ages to throw out lollipop sticks because of how he loses his focus just chewing on them, walking past trash cans without even looking at them because he's too busy chewing away.

 

All of these simple facts point to one very clear reason:

 

Devin has something of an oral fixation.

 

He doesn't know when he developed this, nor does he know  _ why _ he developed this, he just knows that it is a thing now and he has to deal with it. He's constantly nibbling on something, chewing it unconsciously, and snapping back into the moment to find deep teeth marks into whatever was in his hand. The worst occurrence of this was when he borrowed a person's pen and chewed the outside casing of the plastic so much so that it cracked and broke. While nervously thinking of a way to explain how it broke, he chewed his nails until they were so short that they hurt. It was truly a terrible day.

 

What is the strangest thing to him, however, is the pleasure he derives from having things in his mouth. Of course, he makes the standard and mandatory blow job jokes, but the matter of the fact is that it  _ calms _ him to have something in his mouth, such as before. He had chewed his nails so short because that was a way of him channeling his nervous energy so it didn't overwhelm him.

 

He understands finding it hot. He understands oral fixations. He understands all of the sexual aspects of this thing.

 

What he doesn't understand is why whenever he is anxious, jumpy, overwhelmed, or rambling with a tight chest, he wants to stick something in his mouth.

 

He has a hypothesis that he has yet to test. He doubts that he'll ever have the chance to test it, considering the fact that it requires some very specific conditions. The conditions are as follows.

 

    * A penis (preferably attached to a person who is not himself)
    * Anxious feelings
    * An understanding person
    * A vague feeling of horniness
    * An empty mouth
    * __A penis__
    * (This is the main condition. Just… give this man a dick to suck, please.)



 

Basically, Devin wants to see if just… putting someone's cock in his mouth when he's anxious will calm him down.  _ Basically,  _ he wants to see if cockwarming calms him.

 

Now, this is a kind of weird thing to want to test, in Devin's opinion. His hypothesis is this: putting a trusted one's cock in my mouth when I am nervous will calm me down. What if his tests fail and he just gets more nervous? Will he just pull off their dick, give it a friendly pat, and say “better luck next time, pal”? Will he just pull away and go hide in his room from embarrassment, deleting the person's number and blocking them out entirely? Will he pull away and go back to what he was doing beforehand with no further explanation? Moreover, how will the person with the penis react?

 

The worries from these possibilities are enough to give him number two from his list.

 

Now he just needs… everything else.

 

***

 

One week after coming up with his hypothesis, Devin finds himself the perfect opportunity.

 

He's sitting in his living room with Grayson Iverson sitting on the floor between his legs playing a video game. Devin's petting his hair absentmindedly, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. He's tired and shaky for no reason in particular, and he has to keep his teeth digging into his bottom lip to keep from rambling.

 

The third time he accidentally tugs Grayson's hair instead of calmly petting, Grayson pauses the game and leans his head back on the couch, looking up at Devin. His voice is warm when he speaks, and a shiver runs down Devin's spine. “What's up?”

 

Devin goes to say “nothing”, but it doesn't quite work that way. His brain decides to switch it up for him, and he ends up saying something completely different.

 

“Have you ever heard of cockwarming?”

 

Grayson's eyes go wide. Devin's eyes go wide. The pause menu music rings out loud and clear in the living room. Grayson slowly pulls away from Devin and Devin's heart freezes up, worried that he said something weird, before Grayson sits on the couch beside Devin. Devin continues to stare up at him with wide, scared eyes, and Grayson cups his cheek.

 

“Yes, I have,” Grayson responds awkwardly. Somehow, his awkwardness calms Devin. “Why are you asking?”

 

“I… I want to… do that. With you.” Devin looks down at the controller in Grayson's hands. He pushes it against his chest and slowly slides off the couch. His heart is racing. “I want to suck you off- well, like… not that necessarily  _ right now _ , but I want to… give you a warm place to put your cock while you play.”

 

Grayson's pupils are  _ blown _ , and his pants look tented. Devin gently pushes his knees apart and shuffles forward, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, pulling them and his boxers down. He reaches forward, wrapping a hand loosely around his half-hard dick and stroking slowly. He looks up at Grayson through his eyelashes.

 

“Play your game,” he prompts, his voice low. Grayson swallows and nods, unpausing and resuming playing.

 

Devin takes a breath and just… stares. He locks eyes with Grayson's dick and just stares at it, unable to find the nerve to lean forward and go down on him. It's not like this is  _ anywhere  _ near the first time he has sucked his dick, this just feels…  _ different _ , somehow. Either way, after a few more moments, he forces himself into action.

 

The second that he gets even just the head of Grayson's dick into his mouth, he  _ melts. _ Grayson jolts above him, but Devin barely notices, one hand holding the base of Grayson's cock and the other hand on his own thigh. He can feel the shakiness in his hands slowly start to cease. Figuring that this is a good reaction, he sinks his head down further.

 

He slides down further and further until his nose presses against Grayson's lower stomach. His mouth is deliciously full, and his knees slide open further on the wooden floor and both hands fall down to his thighs.

 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Grayson breathes from above him, and he takes a hand off the controller to very quickly run his fingers through Devin's hair. That action alone is enough to make Devin practically purr, which causes his throat to vibrate around Grayson's cock, which causes him to jolt and moan out.

 

Devin lets himself just sink into this feeling, letting his focus drift away from the vague nervousness he still feels like a ball in his chest. The ball feels like it's unraveling anyway, melting into nothingness. His mind is empty, focus unclear, and he just feels…

 

_ Nice. _

 

He swallows continuously around his cock, trying not to make too much of a mess of spit, but he already knows that it's dripping down his chin. He can't find it in himself to care, knees sliding open further, eyes shut. Grayson is fidgeting, short, gasping breaths slipping out here and there. Each little noise comforts Devin more, telling him that he's doing a good job, that he's pleasing him, that he's being good.

 

He's being  _ good.  _ What a thought that is. It sends his heart racing again and his mind emptying further, a moan coming out muffled. Devin thinks he faintly hears the music that plays when you die in the game Grayson is playing, and he moans softly again, glad that he's being this good, distracting him this much. 

 

This goes on for a while, Devin just slipping lower and lower into this foggy trace that makes him soft and sleepy and calm. Grayson seems like he's losing more and more control as time goes on, his legs twitching and fidgeting, but honestly, Devin barely notices. He's too far gone to tell.

 

At one point, Grayson grips his hair, pulling him back to reality instead of in that drifting place that Devin had been in. He looks up at him, face slack with pleasure. Grayson looks a mess, face red and hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, but Devin still finds his heart warmed by how he looks. Grayson pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and cups his face in his hands, sliding him off of his dick a bit.

 

“Kitten,” he says, voice breathless, and Devin whines, sinking further down on his dick again. Grayson responds to his action by drawing in a sharp breath. “Honey, I'm gonna come.”

 

Devin hums at that and bobs his head a little. He wants to make him come, he wants to swallow his cum, he wants to be  _ good.  _ That's all he wants right now, the only thought that occupies his cloudy mind is “ _ I want to make my Daddy feel good _ .” He's so far down that he's pulling out that kink, a kink he has yet to tell Grayson about, but he figures it's okay as long as he's only thinking it, not saying it out loud.

 

Soon enough, Grayson comes, and somehow, Devin melts further. He swallows it all down and only pulls off of Grayson when he gently pulls him off. He wipes his chin and mouth with the back of his sleeve (ew) and stays on his knees, staring up at him. His eyes are wide and round, blinking slowly, his body relaxed. Grayson looks down at him, chest heaving and face flushed deeply.

 

“Holy shit, Dev,” Grayson starts breathlessly. Devin has to bite his tongue to keep from saying something stupid. “That was so good,  _ fuck. _ ”

 

Devin nods and looks down. Rough hands cup his chin and tilt his head up again. Grayson's looking at him with a curious expression, and Devin bites his lip now, ignoring his foggy brain and its wants.

 

“You look like you have something you want to say. Care to share?”

 

Devin’s fingers dig into his thighs. He looks down again, and then to the side. Finally, he closes his eyes and lets his mouth fall open.

 

“Daddy.” He hears Grayson draw in a sharp breath and he opens his eyes, staring up at him. He feels something unpleasant burn in his throat and he hates how vulnerable he feels. He starts to draw away. “Sorry, that was- that was stupid of me to say, I-”

 

“Hey, hey, baby, no, it's- it's okay! I just- I wasn't expecting that.” He dares to look up at Grayson, and the smile on Grayson's face has him slipping right back down into that floating warm place. “I'm okay with you calling me that. I  _ like  _ it, even. I want you to call me that, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Devin says. He closes his eyes and leans forward, pressing his forehead against Grayson's knee. “Okay… Daddy.”

 

***

 

With his hypothesis coming out positive, Devin feels like his curiosity will fade, but… quite the opposite happens. He just grows  _ more  _ curious, wanting to find out more ways to calm down, more ways to sink into that floating headspace. 

 

He can't wrap his head around the entire situation enough to be able to form another hypothesis, but he can look things up, and look things up he  _ does. _

 

At first, he mainly looks up cockwarming. For obvious reasons, this concept isn't something new to him, but he thinks he would like to try it with… with Grayson's cock  _ in  _ him, but not in his mouth. Basically, he wants to sit on his lap and see how that makes him feel. He wants to know if it has the same calming effects as before, or if it just makes him antsy to get fucked, or whatever it is that it does to him. He just knows that he wants to try it.

 

The perfect opportunity shows itself about a week after the event that Devin has cleverly titled  _ Cockwarming: The Beginning _ .

 

(When he had told Grayson about the title, Grayson had given him a look filled with so much disgust that Devin had nearly fallen over laughing.)

 

For once, Devin has the house to himself. His parents are visiting family, Ben is out at a friends house, and his little sisters are at a sleepover party. With an opportunity like this, it's practically mandatory for Devin to invite over his boyfriend-not-boyfriend-fuck-buddy Grayson.

 

(The title needs work.)

 

Here they are now in Devin's room. Grayson is sitting at Devin's desk doing overdue homework and Devin is laying on his bed on his phone, hopelessly  _ bored. _ He looks over at Grayson, at how when he leans over, the plain expanse of the nape of his neck is on display, and how he hums ever so softly under his breath, lost in thought. For no particular reason, heat begins to pool in the pit of his stomach and he rolls over and stands up, making his way over to him.

 

He leans down, nipping at the back of his neck, arms wrapping around his shoulders. He feels Grayson shiver under his arms and hears his humming stop, but he stays silent. Lifting his head up, Devin lightly bites his ear and  _ purrs  _ into his ear. “Hi, Daddy.”

 

Devin giggles when Grayson drops his pencil. Devin has been absolutely  _ abusing _ the Daddy card ever since he found out that Grayson likes being called that, and he has loved every minute of it. All he needs to do is bite his lip, tilt his head a little, and say “Daddy” in a soft sweet voice to make Grayson fall over his own feet doing whatever he wants.

 

It's fucking  _ awesome. _

 

It works now, with the way Grayson covers Devin's hands with his own. Devin swears he must be hypersensitive for the way that even feeling the roughness of his hands on his own makes him shiver and gasp softly into his ear. He begins nibbling and sucking on the side of his neck, careful not to leave any dark marks, just small, tiny ones that will fade in no time.

 

“Baby, I need to finish this,” Grayson says, but Devin knows that his heart isn't into it when he turns his head, one hand coming up to cup Devin's cheek and turn his face to kiss him. While they kiss, Devin walks around him and straddles his lap, hands on his shoulders. He grinds forward, moaning into his mouth. Grayson pushes him back by his shoulder, breaking the kiss. Devin groans in response, whining in the back of his throat.

 

“Why?”

 

“Devin, I can't fuck you right now. I don't have time. I just need to finish this one assignment, and then we can fuck all you want.”

 

“But… but you can fuck me now and then finish after.”  


 

Grayson gives him a look. “Whenever we have sex, you're  _ insatiable.  _ If I fuck you now, we won't finish until you fucking  _ pass out,  _ especially with how you're acting.”

 

Devin flushes bright red and hangs his head. Grayson lifts his chin up and kisses him, and Devin smiles into the kiss before pulling away.

 

“Hey,” Devin starts, suddenly nervous. His fingers pull at a loose thread on Grayson's shirt. Grayson moves his hands from the desk to Devin's sides, holding him in place, and somehow the heat of his hands through his t-shirt is enough to comfort him into speaking again. “Have you ever heard of cockwarming?”

 

Predictably, Grayson goes red. “You want to, uh… do that again?”

 

“No.” Devin grins at the disappointed look on Grayson's face. “I want to do something even better.”

 

“...Oh? And what's that?”

 

“I,” Devin starts, fingers flexing on Grayson's shoulders, stomach flipping both with fear and anticipation. “I want to sit on your cock.”

 

“Dear Lord,” Grayson breathes after a second of hesitation. Devin looks down at Grayson's collar, hands reaching down to play with it. He chews on his lip. Grayson reaches up and cups his chin, tilting his face up. When they meet eyes, Devin leans forward and kisses him deeply, hands fisting in his collar. When Grayson breaks the kiss, he presses a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, okay, you can do that. You've gotta prep yourself, though, baby.”

 

“What if I told you that I'm  _ already  _ prepped?”

 

Grayson seems to choke on his own air at that. Devin smiles and kisses his cheek, bouncing slightly on his lap as he waits for him to speak again. “You- huh?”

 

“It’s called a plug, Gray,” Devin says, voice teasingly condescending. “I put one in before you got here so I could be ready in advance!”

 

Grayson blinks at him a few times and takes a deep breath. Then, he pushes at Devin's chest until Devin gets the hint and stands up, looking down at him confusedly. Grayson crosses his arms and grins up at him, and at that expression, a shiver runs down Devin's spine. “Show me.”

 

Devin turns around, hooking his thumbs in his waistband and pulling his sweatpants and boxers down at the same time. He's already half hard, but he ignores his cock in favor of leaning down over the desk, folding his arms around his head, burying his face in them. He sways his hips side to side a little, smirking as he pictures Grayson's expression. The smirk gets wiped off his face when large, callused hands grip his hips tightly. Instead of a teasing remark that he had been planning on saying, a soft gasp leaves his lips and his back arches more, pressing back into his hands.

 

Grayson is silent as he looks at him, and Devin waits impatiently, burying his face further into his arm. He jerks forward a little when Grayson pushes on the flat base of the plug, fingers curling into fists.

 

“If you don't have time to fuck me, you don't have time to tease me,” Devin bites out, jolting when Grayson lightly bites his ass and chuckles darkly. He almost turns back to tell him to hurry up when Grayson starts pulling out the plug without a warning. Devin bites his lip to keep from making any noises. He does sigh when the plug gets fully pulled out, though, shuddering at the emptiness.

 

“Please tell me you're already hard,” Devin mutters mostly to himself when he turns around, although he does hear Grayson break his serious character to laugh.

 

(When Grayson laughs hard enough, he snorts. It's gross, and really ugly, and Devin is absolutely enamored with it.)

 

Thankfully, Grayson is  _ very  _ hard. Devin grins like a cat who got the cream (although he hasn't gotten the cream yet) and, with the help of Grayson, pulls down his pants and underwear.

 

One condom and a bit of awkward fumbling later and Devin is standing over Grayson's lap, slowly lowering down. His head falls forward against Grayson's shoulder after the head of his cock pushes into him, fingers on his other shoulder clenching in the fabric of his shirt as he lowers down more. When his ass hits the top of Grayson's thighs, he shudders, raising both hands to Grayson's shoulders and gripping hard.

 

This is one of his favorite things, whether it be rough pounding or slow, lazy sex. The intimacy is amazing, the feeling even better, and the sheer… just,  _ pleasure  _ of being filled up like this is amazing. He wants to feel like this all the time, especially when it's like this, pressed chest to chest with Grayson, close enough to feel his racing heartbeat against his own chest.

 

He doesn't even realize that he has been rocking back and forth until Grayson cups the back of his neck, snapping him out of his thoughts. He breathes out shakily.

 

“Sit  _ still, _ ” Grayson tells him, his voice is quiet but full of warning. Devin can't find words, so he whimpers and nods, burying his nose in his neck, pressing a soft kiss to the side. “You want to be good for me, right?”

 

“Yes, yes, please, I want to be good, Daddy,” Devin finds himself saying as he presses even closer to Grayson, arms looping around his neck and feet pressing flat against the floor as he stops his movements entirely. “I wanna be good.”

 

“Then don't move and let me finish this.” Grayson scoots the chair forward. The movement jostles Devin in his lap and Devin's moan gets muffled by his neck. “If you're  _ really  _ good, I'll give you whatever you want after I finish. Sound okay, baby boy?”

 

“Yes, yes, Daddy.” Devin nods and moans softly again, stilling entirely afterward. Before long, he can feel an easy calm seeping into him, and he relaxes into it, fingers flexing and curling into fists repeatedly.

 

Devin's mind is pleasantly blank, and his eyes slip shut. He rests his cheek on his shoulder, every point of focus on the way Grayson fills him up, too much and just right at the same time. Oddly enough, he doesn't find himself  _ wanting  _ to move anymore, just enjoying this feeling. He feels like he's floating, mind and fingertips buzzing as he slips down more and more, sighing softly every now and then. 

 

It just… it feels so _ nice. _

 

Time passes, and the scratching of Grayson's pencil against the paper fades into nothingness. All Devin can hear is his heartbeat in his ears and his breathing. The steady pounding of Grayson's heart against his chest is comforting in this odd way that Devin doesn't question too much. He doesn't think he has the capability to question it with how empty his mind is. Even stringing together one full sentence seems difficult right now.

 

At one point or another, Grayson stops to think, and his empty hand comes up to Devin's hair, petting and scratching lightly. Devin practically purrs, loving the tingly pleasure that slows spreads throughout him. He mourns the loss of his hand when he puts it back down, continuing to write.

 

Devin loses his track of time prettily easily as his head gets foggier and warmth pools in his stomach more and more. Grayson says something to him, and it takes him saying it twice for Devin to actually hear him.

 

“How are you doing?” Grayson asks, his voice warm and soft. Devin whimpers in response, pressing another soft kiss to his neck. His voice surprises even himself when he manages to talk.

 

“‘M really good, Daddy,” he slurs, voice quiet. It's laced with something unidentifiable that he doesn't worry about too much, eyes slipping shut again. “‘M good, I'm good.”

 

“You're really out of it, aren't you?” Grayson asks, his voice a mixture of awe and wonder. Devin attempts to respond, but all of his words get caught in his throat when Grayson pets his hair again. He leans back into his hand, moaning softly, trying to keep his hips as still as possible. 

 

It's surprisingly easy. The fullness comforts him. Like he said, he wants to feel like this all the time.

 

The petting continues on for a while after that, and that pleasant buzzing feeling spreads throughout Devin's entire body, slipping down into that floating headspace even more somehow. The focus on how Grayson is inside him, thick and filling him just right, never loses focus, but it does become the one and only thing Devin is able to focus on. Everything else comes in small flickers of focus, the way Grayson shifts in his chair, how his fingers catch on small knots in Devin's hair, the hard scratch of pencil on paper. Devin can't pull his attention away from how they are connected in the most intimate way possible. 

 

If he weren't so under, the amount of warm affection that floods his body may have been worrying.

 

More time passes. Devin nearly falls asleep, cheek pressed against Grayson's shoulder and arms hanging limply over his shoulders. He's warm despite the chill in the room and his lack of clothes. Grayson has stopped petting his hair by now, but Devin doesn't really notice, seconds away from sleep. The sharp tug to his hair has him rising to the surface again just enough to hear Grayson's words.

 

“I finished my homework, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low and soft in such a way that Devin feels shaken to his core. Warmth curls low and lazy, and he melts impossibly more. “What would you like me to do for you now?”

 

Grayson pulls Devin back far enough that they can meet eyes. The movement shifts Devin on his lap, and he whimpers as he feels the way Grayson's cock pulses inside of him. Everything in him is lax, drooping and trusting Grayson to hold him up, his head tilting to the side a little as he looks at him. Soft, panting breaths fill the silence in the room.

 

Both of Grayson's hands come up to Devin's face, and Devin feels something in him crumble. “Kiss me,” he whispers, and Grayson hurries to follow. 

 

The kisses are slow and soft, the urgency that usually accompanies them at bay. They're still charged with electricity and warmth, and Devin's heart skips a beat as his hands come up slowly to run through Grayson's hair. The kisses continue for a while after that until the rolls of Devin's hips become too much of a distraction to both of them. The kiss breaks and Devin drops his head forward, rolling his hips faster and harder, his sleepy softness slowly fading as the need from earlier comes back strong and fast.

 

Grayson picks him up and Devin gasps out, “Take me to bed.” Three steps and they're there. Grayson lays him down on his back and Devin is so thankful that he makes sure to not pull out during the process. Devin doesn't think he can handle that emptiness right now.

 

Grayson cups his face in his hands again and Devin closes his eyes before they can become watery. Affection and pleasure are running high and twisting in a confusing mess of need and softness, and just…  _ confusion. _ Devin finds that he doesn't have the capability to focus on it, let alone think about it, right now.

 

“How do you want me to fuck you?” Grayson asks, and ‘rough’ lingers on the tip of Devin's tongue. He opens his eyes and reaches a hand up to Grayson's face. He runs his thumb over the skin underneath Grayson's eye and watches as his eyelashes flutter. His heart stutters.

 

“Hard and slow.  _ Please. _ ” That's the best way that Devin can think to say ‘make love to me’ without actually saying that. Grayson seems to understand, though, and his eyes widen before he gives Devin exactly what he asked for.

 

Devin's arms come up to wrap around Grayson's neck as he pounds into him hard, gasping moans falling from his mouth with each thrust of his hips. He fucks him deep against the edge of the bed, and for once, Devin doesn't feel the weighing need of ‘more’ and ‘faster’ in his gut. That doesn't stop the steady stream of ‘pleases’ from falling from his mouth, though. 

 

“Oh G- _ God,  _ Daddy,  _ please,”  _ Devin pleads, clinging onto Grayson tightly and rocking with him, legs wrapped around his hips. He makes an attempt to thrust back against Grayson but eventually melts entirely and just lets Grayson take him apart like this. “Please,  _ please!” _

 

Grayson's quiet aside from huffing breaths and moans against the side of Devin's neck, muffling himself entirely when he bites down and begins sucking a dark mark high up on the side of his neck. Devin's too gone to care about how much of a bitch that hickey is going to be to hide, actually flushing red with the pleasure of being marked,  _ claimed  _ by Grayson likes that. It fills him with the comforting feeling that warms his stomach. It's  _ nice  _ to feel like he belongs to Grayson.

 

It's  _ really  _ nice.

 

Unsurprisingly, soon enough, Devin feels like he's teetering on the edge, about to come. His nails dig into Grayson's back and he pulls him close, holding off and begging. “Please, _ Daddy, please,  _ let me come, please, I've been so-  _ fuck!- _ so good, please!”

 

Grayson pulls his face away and kisses Devin's cheek sweetly and whispers “come” in his ear with a voice far more affectionate than Devin thought it would be. 

 

Devin comes harder than he thinks he ever has before, waves of pleasure rolling over him damn near continuously without a clear end. He sinks in it, arms going loose along with his legs, falling limp against the bed and continuing to rock with Grayson as he fucks deeply into him. Tears spring to his eyes and leak out of the corners of his eyes as Grayson continues to fuck him deep, hitting his prostate with such accuracy that Devin's legs twitch and he sucks in a gulp of air with each thrust. It's so  _ good. _

 

Grayson follows him soon after, thrusts stuttering and hips pushing  _ deep _ as he comes. Devin swears under his breath and in the back of the mind, the want for Grayson to come inside him floats to the surface. To be claimed by him that way, full of his cum, dripping with it… Devin mentally marks that down as something to bring up to him. For now, though, Grayson comes into the condom and begins to pull away.   
  


Something ugly flares up in Devin’s chest at that.  _ No, no, where are you going, no, stay, please, _ his mind chants, and his hands scramble to fist in the fabric of Grayson’s shirt, holding him close. “No,  _ no _ , please.”

 

Grayson turns to look at him, confused, but he slides back in. He shudders visibly, probably at his sensitivity, and a part of Devin wants to release his shirt so that he can pull away. He knows that they need to clean up and change before they can sleep or anything like that, so he might as well just let go of him and let that happen. He might as well just pull away himself and not stall by gripping his shirt tight enough to rip, he might as well-   
  
Big hands cup his cheeks, and he melts. Every time those hands cup his face, his thoughts evaporate into nothing, and his gaze lifts to meet Grayson’s dark green eyes, comforting him better than anything else. He swallows and tosses the words around in his head before speaking.   
  


“Stay. Please.” Devin glances down shyly before looking up at him again. “Please stay here.”

 

Grayson hesitates, and Devin fists his hands in his shirt tighter. At the word, he would release the fabric and let Grayson go, but he  _ really  _ hopes that he doesn’t have to do that, needing this comfort, the soft intimacy of this connection more than  _ anything  _ right now. He’ll let him go if Grayson so chooses, but there is nothing wrong in holding on tight while he still has him, is there?

 

“Okay,” Grayson agrees, and Devin relaxes again but doesn't let go of his tight grip on his shirt, feeling like if he lets go of him, he'll take back his words and pull away. “Okay, Devin. I’ll stay. I promise.”

 

The words carry a weight with them that Devin does not have the strength or the focus to dissect right now. On surface level, however, he can recognize that the promise is something more than a promise to stay inside him, a promise to cuddle up and leave the cleaning to when they wake up. He knows that it’s more than that, and what the more is exactly shakes him to his very core, filling him with fear. That fear, though, is awfully short lived as Grayson maneuvers them and low-key manhandles Devin until he gets them both underneath the blanket, cuddling chest to chest, still inside of him. In Grayson’s arms with his steady heartbeat pounding against Devin’s ear, Devin finds that he cannot be scared, he doesn’t have any worries, and everything is easy and okay.   
  
He’s okay. Grayson has him, Grayson will stay. He promised him that. He’ll stay.

 

Grayson falls asleep before him, but Devin follows shortly after. As he falls into a deep sleep, his thoughts are full of the affection that he feels about the freckled man in his arms and his mouth moves to its own accord, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously close to “love” against his chest before he passes out.

 

***

 

A few weeks later leads to another empty house and plans with Grayson. 

 

Well, _mostly_ empty. Ben has yet to get his stubborn ass through the door, still sitting on the fucking couch playing his fucking video games until he beats the _fucking_ level that he keeps _fucking_ dying on. Is it obvious how annoyed Devin is yet?  
  
“C’ _mon,_ you told me you were leaving by four! It’s four-thirty yet you’re _still here!”_ Devin grumbles from the living room entrance, arms crossed tightly across his chest. Grayson is going to arrive any second and he really isn’t interested in showing his brother how he’s fucking one of the most popular (and not for all of the best reasons) football players in the school. God. That’s a fucking speech waiting to happen.

 

Of course, though, the world hates him, making the moment that Ben turns off his console coincide with the moment that Grayson walks through the door, duffle bag over his shoulder, plastic bag in his hand, and shouting so that Devin can hear him in what is supposed to be an empty house other than the two of them.

 

“Dev! Guess what I got from the store!” Is the first thing that Grayson shouts when he walks through the door, and Devin’s arms drop to his sides as he feels the color drain from his face. Ben slowly looks up from the console and over to him and stays silent himself, obviously wanting to listen to what else is said to determine the severity of the speech that he’s going to give Devin later. “Here are two hints: it starts with an ‘r’ and rhymes with ‘pope’.” Ben’s eyes blow wide, as does Devin’s, and they make very awkward, very tense eye contact. Devin is in for a fucking  _ sermon _ by this rate. “So, I was thinking we could use it to, you know, tie your legs to-  _ oh.  _ Uh. H-hello, Benjamin.”

 

“Hello,  _ Grayson Iverson,” _ Ben greets, his voice full of mock sweetness. His eyes are narrow, and his arms are crossed tightly across his chest. Devin, heart pounding, grabs Grayson’s sleeve to pull him over and in front of him so he can hide behind him. “Lovely running into you here! I had  _ no idea  _ that you were coming over today! Maybe I should stay home from the party so we can hang out and get to know each other a bit, hm?”

 

“No!” Devin shouts, jumping out from behind him before he can stop himself. He closes his mouth so fast that his teeth clack together painfully. “Uh! I mean! You should  _ really  _ go to that party, I mean, it sounds like it’s going to be fun, me and- me and Grayson will be fine here, so go. Now.  _ Please.” _

 

“I’m offended that you don’t want me hanging around so I can get to know your little  _ friend _ here better, Devin.” Ben looks over at Grayson, who is frozen still and  _ bright  _ red by now. He nods at the bag in his hand. “What’s in the bag?”

 

Devin turns to Grayson and whispers something along the lines of “if you tell him what’s in the bag, I will kick your fucking ass”. “Uh! Just some! Food…?”   
  
“Mm, yeah, uh-huh, convincing. God. Teenagers these days, Jesus Christ.” Ben runs a hand down his face, causing his glasses to be pushed askew on his face. Devin's clutch on Grayson's hand is tight enough to break, but, to be fair, Grayson is clutching back just as hard. Ben lifts a hand and points at him. “Whatever mess you make,  _ you clean.  _ Google how to deal with and treat rope burn, and, for God's sake, keep it all in your room, okay? And  _ be safe.  _ You already know that the-”

 

“The best sex is safe sex, yes, I know, now  _ leave!” _

 

With that, Devin shoves Ben out of the house, shutting and locking the door before turning around to face Grayson with a large, devious grin on his face. “So! You have rope?” Grayson’s face is still red, and his eyebrow twitches. “Uh oh. That’s your angry expression. What did I do?”

 

“You told me that no one was going to be here!” he says, voice not exactly angry, but loud with embarrassment. “I came in your house fucking  _ shouting  _ our plans and- and Ben heard it all!”

 

“I thought he would be gone by the time you got here!” Devin takes a breath and walks forward, hands coming up to play with the collar of Grayson’s jacket, rubbing the fabric between his forefingers and thumbs. He looks up to him, and, with an ounce of hesitance, his hand comes up and he cups his cheek. His heart absolutely does not stutter at how Grayson’s lashes flutter for a moment as he leans into his hand. “I’m sorry, okay? I thought he would have been gone, but he was taking longer than usual. I promise I’ll warn you next time.” 

 

_ If there is a next time, there is _ , Devin thinks to himself. It hurts.

 

The hurt dissipates when Grayson covers his hand with his own, dropping the plastic bag on the ground. It hits the ground with a soft thud. His now freed hand comes to rest on Devin’s lower back, pulling him closer, flat against his chest. “Okay. Please do. I would  _ really  _ like to avoid walking in here shouting again and shock, like, your mom or something.”

 

Devin can’t help the small smile that comes on his face. He leans up and kisses Grayson square on the mouth, pinching his cheek playfully. They kiss for a while, soft and slow, before the grumbling of Grayson’s stomach shocks them both out of it. Devin leans back on his flat feet, looking up to Grayson curiously as his face grows red again, averting his gaze.

 

“How about we go grab a bite to eat before we do anything?” he offers, voice quiet, tentative. Scared, almost. Does this sound like a date offer? They aren’t dating, they aren’t  _ going  _ to date, so this can’t be… God, he hopes it doesn’t sound like a date offer. “We can go to that one diner, you know, the one with those bomb ass strawberry shakes.”

 

Grayson is quiet, and Devin rambles to fill the silence. “You know, only if you want to, I mean, we don’t  _ have  _ to go there, I just want to get some food ‘cause you’re obviously hungry, and, I mean, I am too, so diner food sounds really good, but it’s not like that is-”

 

He gets cut off with a kiss that he melts into. He chases Grayson’s lips when he pulls away. Grayson’s voice is warm when he speaks, almost as soft as the smile that graces his lips. “Yeah. Let’s go there.”   
  


Oh, shit. Devin is  _ fucked. _ “Let’s.”

 

One short car ride later (Grayson has a tall red truck that’s low-key breaking down and Devin is  _ in love  _ with that rickety-ass truck) and they arrive. Of course, on a Friday night, it’s a little bit busy, but Devin doesn’t mind. They manage to snag a booth, miraculously, and the waitress doesn’t come over to them for a while. Devin doesn’t mind; it gives him time to stare at Grayson with a stupidly fond expression as Grayson looks around the scene that is the busy diner.

 

And stare he does. Grayson’s eyes are wide, darting around, soaking in all the conversation, examining the jukebox against the wall near them. Devin loves the wide-eyed excitement on his face, looking as if he has never seen this place before, even though they both know that he has been here more times than he can count. This is his favorite food joint, after all. 

 

Devin sees the expression shift on Grayson’s face to something a little bit panicked, and then something a little dreadful. Devin goes to ask him about it before Grayson is grabbing at his hand and pulling him up. “Sit on my side of the booth.” Devin goes willingly, sidling up to him in the seat, pressed side to side. Sitting on this side, Devin can see what he was looking at, and Devin’s own face twists up at the sight of Grayson’s football buddies heading their way. One of them, short and buff, leads a guy behind him, long and skinny with red hair. Alright, so those are their names then. Small Buff and Long Red.

 

Long Red and Small Buff slide into the newly freed seats in the booth. Grayson’s arm wraps around Devin’s waist, tugging him closer. Devin looks up to his face, confusion clearly written on his own, but when he looks up at him, he just sees something blank… empty. He doesn’t question it, at least, not then. Devin takes his other hand in his own, looking down at it and rubbing it, massaging in small, comforting patterns. 

 

“I’m surprised to see you here, Gray,” one of the football jerk-offs says. Is it necessary for Devin to say that he doesn’t really like the football team? The only reason he even began talking to Grayson is because of their drunken hook-up. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be here right now. His heart shudders in his chest at the thought, and he continues rubbing patterns onto the back of his hand. “It’s not like you to blow us off for a date. Hell, when’s the last time you even went on a date?”

 

Devin doesn’t know the answer to this. He assumes a few months considering that’s how long they have been doing this. Grayson’s answer, however, shocks him. “Right now.”

 

Devin's hands pause on his for a second before he is able to gather his bearings and continue massaging. He tries to ignore how Grayson referred to this as a date- he probably only said that to get his friends off his back anyway.

 

“And you didn't even bother to introduce us?” Long Red says, faking hurt, fanning his face dramatically. Devin actually cracks a smile at that. Grayson tenses further, and Devin moves to rubbing his forearm and trying to channel comfort that way. Somehow, it works, even if it's just in the slightest, and Grayson hooks his ankle with Devin's. 

 

Small Buff clears his throat, catching their attention. “Gray, dude, that's your sign to introduce us and shit.”

 

“Oh,” Grayson responds, then hesitates for a moment or two. Devin peers up at him, worry clear on his face. “Jayden, Austin, this is Devin. Devin Richmond.”

 

“Richmond…” Jayden, formerly known as Small Buff says. He rubs his chin and makes a show of thinking hard. “Why is that name so familiar?”

 

“That's probably ‘cause Benjamin Richmond kicked your ass last year,” Austin supplies helpfully.

 

“Oh, yeah.” Jayden turns to looks at Devin, and Devin mentally curses out Ben for being such a damn hot head and making a bad impression for him before he even got to- “That was fuckin’ sick.”

 

“I- huh?”

 

“I was being a lil’ bitch, you know, and homeboy just like… clocked me. Fuck, it was so cool.” Either Devin is high as balls and he never noticed, or Jayden actually has a dreamy look in his eyes. “We were like, low-key friends, and I pushed him a  _ little  _ too far and just. Bam. Punched.”

 

“You didn't hear this from me, but Jay here actually has a bit of a crush on him now,” Austin says to Devin, leaning forward a little, resulting in Jayden elbowing him in the ribs. “Ow, fuck, dude!”

 

Devin laughs a little and grins. Okay, so maybe football dudes aren't too bad. Devin sits up a bit straighter and turns to look at Grayson again, expecting to see a smile on his face. He doesn't see that, though.

 

Grayson's jaw is clenched, and he's staring at his lap. His eyes are a little bit narrowed, and Devin barely resists the urge to reach up and cup his cheek, to playfully rub his hand over his jaw until the tension melts into laughter. Devin does, however, slide over more, if that was possible, and wraps his arms around Grayson's arm, dropping his head on his shoulder. Under him, he feels Grayson tense and relax a few times before staying relaxed.

 

Conversation continues and they end up all remaining at the same table, ordering their food and eating while chatting. Grayson doesn't say very much, and Devin doesn't go a moment without touching him in some form or another. Anything to comfort him.

 

As it turns out, Austin and Jayden aren't nearly as bad as Devin had been expecting. Honestly, Devin had been concerned that they would've been homophobic douchebags, but that was  _ nowhere near  _ the case if the glaringly obvious crush Austin had in Jayden was anything to go by. Seriously, the boy is so obvious- the second that Jayden turns away, Austin is making heart eyes at him. If Devin thought that his own crush on Grayson was obvious, then Austin might as well be shouting his love for Jayden.

 

The only things that Devin can see him having a problem with is how  _ loud  _ they are. It honestly isn't that much of a problem, but when they're gossiping (something that those do quite a lot of) about someone literally a table away, Devin would seriously appreciate it if they were  _ quieter. _

 

Eventually, their time together draws to an end and they go their separate ways, Austin and Jayden heading to the table with the football team and Grayson and Devin heading back to Devin's house. Grayson is silent for the whole ride. Devin looks up at him, analyzing the side of his face, the way his jaw is clenched and the way his knuckles go paperwhite from how tight his grip is. He searches his brain, trying to pinpoint what has him like this, but he can't think of anything. Maybe he's upset about his friends coming to the table, but that doesn't make any sense: they're his  _ friends.  _ So, if not that, they did Devin do something? 

 

Oh, God. What if he's still upset about running into Ben?

 

They get back to the house and, wordlessly, Devin takes Grayson's hand in his own. He leads him into the living room and has him sit on the couch. He climbs into his lap, facing him, knees on either side of his thighs, forehead to forehead. They stay like that for a while, for as long as it takes Devin to feel Grayson relax underneath him, arms finally coming up to wrap around him. Devin pulls away slightly to allow Grayson to pull him closer, an ear pressing to his chest, over his heart. Inconvenient for Devin, that's the moment his heartbeat picks up.

 

Grayson holds him close in silence. Devin threads his fingers through his hair, working out small knots and just petting. Grayson's hand clutches the back of his shirt tightly, and Devin's attention is brought to the way his shoulders tremble.

 

“What's wrong?” he asks, finally, saying the first words since they've arrived. Grayson pressing his nose in closer. “Please. Tell me.”

 

It takes a bit, but Grayson pulls back eventually. He pulls back enough that Devin can see his face, and the pure hurt that he sees there breaks his heart. He raises his hands and cups Grayson's face, lifting it up so he meets his eyes. It takes another few moments for him to actually speak.

 

“I'm… I'm scared,” he admits. Devin rubs his thumb over his cheek. “Insecure may… be a better word.” He nervously laughs. “I'm insecure a lot, actually. I'm just usually good at hiding it. Something just… got to my head today, and I let it show. I'm sorry that you had to see that.”

 

Devin's voice is soft when he speaks. “What are you insecure about?”

 

“I… well… Austin and Jayden are infamous for how much they talk. They pretty much spark all the gossip. Don't get me wrong, I love them a lot, but… they know every piece of gossip that there is to be known, and sometimes, without even thinking, they spread that information.” Grayson isn't looking at him by this point. “They've spread gossip about me before.” His eyes snap back up to his. “Most of it was true.”

 

“So, you're… insecure that they'll spread something fake and everyone will assume it's true?” Devin asks, a bit confused. Grayson shakes his head.

 

“No, no, I… I'm afraid that they'll spread one of the true ones, and… and that you'll- that whoever I'm with- that whoever I have in my life at the moment that is…  _ important  _ to me will hear and realize that…” Grayson closes his eyes and tucks his chin to his chest, his voice becoming shaky and quiet. “... that being with me, around me, in my life, isn't worth it. That they'll realize that they have infinitely better options than me, a dickhead football player.”

 

Devin's heart stutters. To see the boy he's in love with so… scared  _ hurts. _ It hurts. He wants to hold him close and kiss him until he has no reason to be insecure anymore, but he knows that things don't quite work that way, so he offers what's second best.

 

“Grayson,” he starts, and Grayson's gaze rises to meet his. “Ask me to stay and I will.”

 

“What? I couldn't just-”

 

“I want to stay. I want to stay here, and I need you to ask me to if that's what you want. Ask me to stay by your side, and I promise I will.”

 

“... You can't promise that.”

 

“I can and I will. I promise. There are very,  _ very  _ little reasons that I would leave your side, and those are extremes.” Devin takes a breath and notices the way his hands shake, the way it feels like even his heart is quivering. “You promised me you would stay.”

 

Grayson swallows. “I did.”

 

“So why can't I do the same?”

 

It's silent for a long moment. Grayson gently pulls Devin’s hands away from his face and doesn't give Devin a second to start worrying about that before he's hugging him again, ear pressed to his chest once more, listening to his heartbeat. Devin resumes petting his hair and just waiting for him to speak, giving him the time that he needs.

 

“Please… promise me you'll stay,” Grayson says after a few minutes. His voice is muffled and a little bit choked sounding. Devin pulls Grayson's face away, and leans it up, leaning down to kiss him deep and passionately. When he pulls away, he opens his eyes and smiles softly down at him, brushing his thumbs under his eyes.

 

“I promise I will. I promise I'll stay.”

 

The promise is heavy. The promise causes Devin's heart to race once again. The promise causes another choked sound to spill from Grayson's lips until the promise causes his quivering shoulders and a tight hold on Devin.

 

The promise speaks something of commitment, something unsaid that hides between the blurred lines of friendship and relationship.

 

The promise promises something  _ more _ , something that Devin can't fully grasp as he lets Grayson soak his shirt with tears, fingers combing his hair gently. He worries his lip between his teeth, just sharp enough a bite to feel the slight tang of blood, releasing his lip once more. He focuses back on comforting Grayson.

 

He's confused and overwhelmed to a degree. He's confused, and overwhelmed, but, above all, he's-

 

Grayson pulls back enough to tug Devin down and to kiss him hard and messily, the kiss tasting of salt, tears, and strawberry shake, and he knows what he is.

 

Above all, he's  _ comforted. _

**Author's Note:**

> hewwo thank you for reading this!!!! i appreciate it a Whole lot!!!!!


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